


Long Distance Messages

by RegalMisfortune



Series: Hacking Gravity [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I wrote this before 8am and proceeded to forget about it entirely until 12 hours later, well she has her moments here but for the most part its ambiguous, when will i make zarya happy it is a mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalMisfortune/pseuds/RegalMisfortune
Summary: Zarya tries to carry on in the days after returning to Russia from Dorado, but at least she has someone to check up on her now.





	Long Distance Messages

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of takes places shortly after the comic, but this is mostly self-indulgent pre-8am me. Also I do not know how to format messages, so it's a bit wonky. I am sorry.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://regalmisfortune.tumblr.com/) if you want.

_I see that you made it back safely._

The text blinked up at Zarya from small screen in her hand, blocking out the article she had been reading prior in order to catch up on weeks’ worth of reports from the warfront. She stared at it for a moment, her brow scrunching together before she carefully tapped at the digital keyboard with one finger.

_Robot?_

_How astute. Your observational skills are unparalleled._

The statement caused a snort to escape her nose before she could help herself, her lips curling up as she lifted her cannon off the floor and began to walk, eyes drifting up occasionally to make sure she wouldn’t run into a wall or trip over a chair.

_This is a warzone. Safety is a dream._

_And yet there you are, trying to make everyone else safe._

Zarya paused staring at the screen as she tried to process Lynx’s words. Was that sarcasm, or were they being serious?

In the end, Zarya didn’t have the time to ponder over it, stuffing the device away as she headed out to receive her orders. Back to the old grind.

The first week back in Siberia was… rough. Zarya spent so long travelling, seeing places she would never had to chance to if circumstances were different, full of life and bright, beautiful colors, that gazing across the familiar grey, war-torn landscape made her heart ache. On top of that, every new bit of equipment made by Volskaya Industries made her remember the lies and the truths and Zarya had to look away, something sour and burning tickling the back of her throat.

The entire country was living a lie. _She_ had been living a lie. And Katya Volskaya had simply pulled the wool right over their eyes. All their mechs, their weapons… all of it was built on the clever weaving of a woman working with the very enemy they were fighting.

And Zarya knew why she had to keep silent. The entirety of Russia would be up in arms if they found out that their safety and livelihood was dependent on _enemy technology_. The country would turn in on itself, and then the omnics would have an easy time cleaning up the mess afterwards. But Zarya hated it, hated knowing, hating that Katya _used_ her and her blind trust, hated that everyone else lived on in blissful ignorance. And destroying omnics no longer made her feel proud of her accomplishments like it had before, no longer proud of serving her own country. She just felt… empty.

 _Your presence has made a profound impact_.

The words crept across the empty space of the report she was trying to write up and only resulted in her staring blankly at it for five minutes trying to conjure up the right structure for it.

_The average KIA has dropped significantly compared to the week before. Morale is also on the rise._

_Oh._

_You do not sound happy. Are you not happy?_

Was she? Zarya didn’t know, her hands hovering over the keys. The fact that her presence alone has changed the dynamics of the warfront was amazing, but, Zarya couldn’t feel the pride in it in her heart. Her heart simply ached and her head hurt from thinking and churning worries and thoughts. The only time she could get herself from stop thinking about it was when she was on the field, focusing on her duties as a soldier. There was no room for hesitating or thought while every shadow could reveal an enemy. And so her fingers slowly tapped out her response, watching the letters appear across the screen in tiny digital shapes.

_I do not know._

  _You inspire hope to your people._

_I know._

_Then why show uncertainty?_

_Please let me finish my work._

Lynx, at least, had the forethought to stop when she asked. Zarya deleted the messages with a sigh before leaning back, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. Her people had so much faith in her, looked up to her, and yet, Zarya couldn’t help but feel lower than pond scum. She was upholding a falsehood, helping in building this pleasant little lie that Katya constructed, and Zarya had no idea how to leave it without toppling the entire thing down around everyone’s heads.

It was a few days before Lynx sent another message, and Zarya would’ve missed it entirely if it hadn’t taken up the entire screen placed on the far wall of the barracks. The building was, thankfully, empty, most of the other troops gone on missions when Zarya clomped in covered in blood, soil, and grease fresh from almost two days crawling through trenches and scorched craters. She had meant to just borrow their showers and crash onto one of the free beds since she would have to go back out come morning, dead tired and worn down, but the trail she left from door to showers left her making a mental note to clean up afterwards before she officially crashed for the night.

It hadn’t been until she came out of the showers feeling a little more human, that she noticed the screen, which had been off when she first entered, depicting a familiar bright, cheerful cityscape that could only belong to Numbani. Not only that, but there had to be hundreds of flowers adorning the streets, all of various colors and shapes in a rainbow of fragile petals.

Zarya felt her mouth open a little in silent awe, not realizing her feet were moving closer until she was right in front of the wall, staring at the image up close.

“What is this?” she murmured softly, reaching out to trace the very edges of the screen.

 _The Festival of Flowers_. _Thought you might appreciate it._

“It’s lovely,” Zarya breathed as the text appeared across the bottom of the image, not surprised that Lynx could actually hear her, or at least know what she was saying. “I wish-“

The words caught in her throat before she could say them, choking on them in silence. Here was a place, where there was no war between humans and omnics. They were at peace, they lived their lives happy. Why couldn’t Russia be the same? Zarya longed for the beautiful colors she had seen in her country only in images. The country had never recovered from the omnics’ destruction in the First Omnic Crisis- and now they were back again for a second helping, never giving them a chance to build back up, to live in happiness while other countries thrived alongside their old enemies like the war never happened.

It made her wish bitterly, for one single moment, that she was there instead of here in her homeland.

The screen flickered as the old image disappeared, being replaced with another. In it was Lynx, still wearing that idiotic coat of theirs, their ear-like contraptions peeking out from a crown of thick, colorful flowers that she suspected was made by the young girl grinning up from the bottom of the image, her dark, tightly coiled hair held back by some sort of metallic headband. There was a third being, an omnic, although the only thing visible of them was their hand, trying to fix the flower crown on Lynx’s head.

“You look stupid,” Zarya mumbled at the screen, but she couldn’t hide her smile as it made its way onto her lips.

_I believe that you are biased in that statement. I think I look quite fetching._

“The only thing you’re fetching is tarnish.”

There was a long pause, and then-

_Am not._

Zarya felt her smile creep higher into a grin, shifting one of the bunk beds closer as she could sit down before her legs decided to give out on her, the screen flickering black for several seconds before the same small girl appeared, standing on her toes as she tried to put a flower crown onto what looked like a heavily modified OR15. Lynx’s hand was also in the image fingers curled into a thumbs-up at the girl’s efforts.

“She’s doing very well,” Zarya replied, feeling the sarcasm even through just the metal and wiring of Lynx’s hand.

_You are just being nice. Efi is far too short to reach Orisa’s head by normal means._

“Then don’t be a spoilsport and help her!”

She didn’t know how long it was until she doze off on the cot after watching through the various scenes of Lynx and their new two acquaintances, the bitterness and confusion of her life melting into dreams of warm sun and flower crowns.

She wished that dreams were more permanent.

It was almost two weeks before they spoke again, although this time it was Zarya’s fault.

 _You are not as sturdy as you appear_.

These words blipped into life on the small datapad she had propped in her lap as she sat in the med-bay, trying to read through the medical report while movement was limited in one arm due to the heavy bandages that snaked across one arm and down her torso.

_It’s only shrapnel._

_Shrapnel that would not have been there in the first place if you had used that big head of yours._

Zarya rolled her eyes, leaning back into the thin cushion with a sigh as she tapped against the screen.

_Everyone got out and lived. Everything is well._

_You almost DIED, Aleksandra._

The use of her name made Zarya freeze, her mind shuddering to a halt. Lynx never used her name, not from the moment they met up until now. What made now different?

_I almost died many times. War does that. Why do you care?_

The question remained unanswered and Zarya let the pad drop as she rested her head back against the thin wall behind the bed, her eyes closing. When she opened them again, the lights were in the signature dimness of night, but her screen was still glowing against the dark sheets with a single line remaining in small text.

_That’s what friends do._


End file.
